Thrice
by Little Tart
Summary: Everything isn't always as it seems.


"**THRICE"**

A Dim myArse As String original

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Authors notes: I had fun with this. What a great idea.

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_**Downtown Kyoto**_

_**Club Kyuu**_

"You wanna dance?"

I gave him a coy smile and reached for his hand. I was surprised how rough his skin was for such a young guy. Whatever he did for a living must be hard work.

I guess he was cute...if you like the type. Thick wavy hair, more brown than black which is actually rare for a Japanese guy, and nice eyes, though they only met mine for a moment before the _pervert_ started checking me out.

God I hate perverts.

But I held my revulsion in check. After all, the outfit I had on was made just for a moment like this.

I doubt he could even hear my voice over the music blaring across the club, but it was apparent he got my drift as he returned my smile and got off his bar stool, following me out to the dance floor through the maze of club goers who were jumping and pulsing to the beat of heavy techno and swirling multi-colored lights.

Reaching an opening just big enough for two, I released his hand and gave him a smile as we started dancing.

I always hated this part, flaunting myself like some shameless hussy in order to enrapture someone, but I was good at it. _Damn_ good at it.

Not that I'm too proud about that.

I'm a _good girl_ after all.

But really…It's not like I needed to be that good at it anyways… Men are _easy_. And this guy was no different.

We danced close...really close, swaying and thrusting to the beat of some generic tune that internally I couldn't stand.

Turning my back to him, I danced while looking at him over my shoulder in that way that you always see on TV...you know, the ridiculous one where my visage is practically shouting '_I'm a Ho..and I don't care who knows... _while I sway my hips, arms over my head and move my body as provocatively as humanly possible without actually taking off my clothes.

And of course his eyes aren't on my face. Not for one second.

What a zero. How predictable.

But...this is also my cue. I'm _relieved _that he looks excited. It makes _me _excited. I just want to get to work.

Taking his hand again, I pull close enough to talk into his ear, making sure my breath blows across his skin. "Take me to the bathroom?"

Of course he nods, wasting no time.

Weaving through the throbbing crowd, we head into the guys bathroom, checking under the walls first to make sure no one else is in there before we head into a nearby stall and lock the door behind us.

"This is fricken awesome!" he grins, practically drooling over me as his eyes roll over my curves. "Just wait till Kyo hears about this." He probably thinks that bragging to his friend will make him more of a man.

Pathetic.

Standing only inches apart, we each give each other a knowing smile, and I slowly put my arms over his shoulders, drawing him closer...

"Oh," I whisper in a breathy, husky tone. "Kyo's never gonna find out about this."

He's obviously a little confused and tries to respond. "Wha-,"

…before I jerk my arms… …_hard_… …and snap his _skinny_ little perverted neck.

Quickly throwing one arm under his armpit for support, I slowly lower him to the floor while I use my free hand to put a finger against my puckered lips as I shake my head in a quieting gesture. "Shhhhh…."

It's done.

"Finally." I whisper through clenched teeth and practically shake with disgust, kicking my leg to get him to stop leaning on me.

I know I shouldn't complain. After all, the whole ordeal only took about fifteen minutes, give or take eighteen seconds if my internal clock is correct...plus another twenty eight seconds to believably set his corpse on the toilet so it looks natural.

I actually like this part, the positioning of the body. It takes some real imagination to get the corpse just right.,.and I swear I have a talent for it.

I wonder if I could make a living that way? You know...not with _dead bodies_, but like...mannequins or something. I hear the money in fashion is good.

"There." I said, more to myself than anyone as I look down at him with satisfaction.

He looks like he's fallen asleep on the crapper. Not too unbelievable in a place like this. It happens all the time.

Someone drinks enough, has to go to the bathroom...

Putting my hand to my throat, I press my index finger against the internal mic. "The target has been neutralized." I say, just loud enough so that my contact can hear me, but quiet enough not to draw attention in case someone walks in.

"Copy that _Thrice_." A rough female voice answers. "Change up and head home. Make sure no one sees you."

"Yeah," I snort sarcastically, looking down at the body sitting on the toilet in front of me. God, he really does look like he's taking a deuce. I can't help but grin. "Because that happens all the time."

"Don't get smarmy we me." She replies. "Remember, I know where you live, and I've seen where you sleep."

"Whatever."

Changing into something a little less likely to draw the guys eyes (and consequently, something more my style...like I said, I'm a good girl), I dump my wig in the trash and head out of the bathroom leaving the club behind without looking back.

It'll probably be at least two hours before the body is found in a place like that, unless he has friends who go looking or him. And by then I'll be at making tea for Sempai while he studies for his final exam.

My name is Maehara.

Shinobu Maehara.

And I'm a spy named _Thrice_.

(Cue the music)

_**45 minutes later**_

_**Hinata-Su **_

"Shinobu-chan."

"Ah…H-hello Motoko-sempai." I bow respectfully before I head to the counter to begin making tea.

"You're a bit late tonight." She says, and I can feel her eyes on my back. She's perceptive that Motoko, seems to be able to read me very well, even when I have my game face on. "Did you're classes go late?"

"Mmm-hmm." I nod. "A little. W-we were in the middle of finishing up a summary on post-renaissance French literature, and got carried away I guess."

I set the tray up with two cups, even though I know he'll probably be alone up there. But I always bring two cups so that he'll invite me to sit with him. He's so sweet and thoughtful…and he works so _hard_! I just know he'll finish his schooling and be a great archeologist some day! And – and I'll do whatever I can to help Sempai!

"Indeed. I can see how that might happen." She replies. "After all, French literature can be quite gripping."

I want to laugh, but that would be out of character for me here. So I simply nod without looking back at her. "C'est mon d'etre!" (Translation: It's my reason for living.)

With the water hot, I finally finish getting the tray all set and pick it up carefully, but as I turn around I am surprised to see Motoko standing directly behind me now. How she moves so quietly, I have no idea. It's rare that anyone catches me off guard.

Standing as close as she is, I can smell the lilac scented shampoo that she uses. I love that smell. Funny thing is, I use the same shampoo and I can't get the scent to last. I wonder if she uses a special conditioner. She must. No one with hair that long can keep it that soft and shiny without conditioner.

No one.

"Are you bringing that up to Urashima?" she asks. I can tell by the way she cocks her head ever so slightly to the side that it's an honest question, although if I weren't in character I'd say '_duhhhh'_….

Instead though, I blush slightly and act like it's hard for me to look her in the eye. "Um…y-yes." I stutter.

It's faked now, the 'stutter'. It was real when I was younger, right up until about four years ago when I was sixteen. That's when I was recruited. They trained that out of me pretty quickly.

Trust me.

On the job, showing you're nervous can get you killed.

"I-I just thought…maybe it will help him relax while he studies."

She eyes me thoughtfully and smiles.

"You're too good to that man Shinobu-chan." She answers me, and I'm suddenly shocked to find her hands on my tray. "Would you like me to bring it up to him for you?"

If I gasped audibly, Mototo was gracious enough to ignore it.

"N-No! I mean…" this time my blush is real. "I…you don't have to Motoko-sempai. I…I want to bring it up."

To my relief, she releases the tray.

"Of course you do."

We both bow at the waist and I leave as quickly as possible.

I have to reign in my frustration as I make my way up the stairs.

I know she means well, but _really_. I've always made it as obvious as possible that I fricken love the guy! And everyone knows it but him (as sweet and darling as he is, he can be such a dunce…).

Gathering my courage, I take a deep cleansing breath and try to forget about the incident before knocking lightly on his door.

"Um…s-Sempai?"

This time, the stutter is real. I swear, what that man does to me…

"Come in!" he calls out from behind the door and I open it, carefully balancing the tray in one hand. "Oh Shinobu-chan! Let me help you with that!" he says with a smile.

He's so thoughtful…

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I have no idea if I'll do anything with this. But the idea itself is hilarious. I would like to hear your thoughts though.


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